_A “REAL, REAL ADVENTURE.”_
They were all in the railway train bound for ----; that is, Mr. and
Mrs. Bradford, with their three little girls and nurse, Mr. Powers,
Belle, and old Daphne.
Maggie, Bessie, and Belle, with their dolls, had two whole seats to
themselves, one having been turned so as to face the other, and give
them what Bessie called a “nice, cunning travelling-house.” Here they
had established themselves in great comfort, papa and mamma being just
behind; while Mr. Powers, and the two nurses with Baby, were seated on
the opposite side of the car.
And here, by and by, seeing the nice play that was going on, did Miss
Baby think it best to betake herself and her own doll, named Peter
Bartholomew. This gentleman with the long name, which had been given
to him by Fred, was made entirely of worsted, face, cap, coat, and
pants, all knit of the brightest colors, and could be knocked about or
thrown from any height without damage to his head or limbs. So for this
reason he had come travelling with Baby Annie, as her dolls were apt to
receive some hard knocks and severe falls, not altogether wholesome for
more brittle materials.
But Annie was not very fond of Peter Bartholomew, and he received
some pretty hard usage at her tiny hands; so that it was well he was
not a gentleman of tender feelings, and was able to take thumps, hard
squeezes, and scoldings with the utmost composure.
However, on this occasion she thought it wise to praise Peter
Bartholomew, by way of persuading her sisters that his company, as well
as her own, was desirable; and, putting her little head on one side in
the most insinuating manner, she spoke thus from nurse’s lap,--
“Baby tome too. Peter tome too. Baby dood. Peter dood. Nice Peter. Oh,
pitty Peter!”
“Oh! isn’t she too cunning, the darling?” said Bessie. “Let’s let her
come play with us.”
“Yes, we’ll take her in our house,” said Belle.
So baby was taken into the enclosure, which Maggie had made quite
complete by fastening a handkerchief from the arm of one seat to that
of the other, and calling it “the door.” Nurse could have lifted baby
at once into the place which was offered for her; but that would not do
at all. Baby must wait till the door was untied, and she admitted in
due form.
Once there, and seated in a snug corner, she behaved herself very well
for a long time, watching her little sisters and Belle with grave
admiration and wonder, and submitting to be played and “_pretended_”
with just as they chose, only now and then insisting that they should
all “tiss Peter,” a thing which she would by no means be induced to do
herself.
But at last she took it into her head to look out of the window, and in
order to do that she must stand upon her feet, which was not safe to
let her do without some careful hand to guard her; and as she objected
very decidedly to returning to the other side of the car where nurse
sat, there was nothing for it but to let nurse come to her.
Now this interfered very much with the arrangements of the three little
girls, who were having a grand “family” play; and not one of them was
at all inclined to be so disturbed, and there was even some pouting
when nurse said they must make room for her for a short time.
But Maggie, Bessie, and Belle could all understand better than Baby
Annie, that in travelling one must consider the comfort and convenience
of one’s fellow-passengers, as well as one’s own. Baby was very little,
and not very well: they had a long day’s journey before them, and it
was necessary that she should be indulged in a measure, and kept in a
good humor as long as possible; and Bessie was the first to think of
this.
“Now, just let me in here for a bit, my honeys,” said nurse, as Maggie
stood with her hand on the pocket-handkerchief door, determined to
defend her “house” as long as possible. “Baby’ll fret if I take her to
the other side when she don’t like it, and that will worry your mother;
besides it’s sunny there when we come out of the woods. Let her look
out of your window awhile, with me to hold her, and it will soon be her
sleepy time, when ye may have your place to yourselves.”
Now old nurse was by no means a small woman; and the children knew
that their quarters would be very much narrowed when she should find
entrance there, and she might have found it hard work to persuade them
to yield without interference from their father or mother, had not
Bessie bethought herself when nurse spoke of her mother.
“Oh, yes!” she said to her sister and Belle, “you know we came on our
travels to do mamma good, and so we mustn’t let any thing trouble her.
If we do, maybe our Father would think we didn’t care very much that He
made her better, and that we are ungrateful. Any thing must be choosed
’cept to worry mamma. And baby don’t know any better; so let’s give up
to her this time, if she cries everybody will be uncomf’able.”
“Well,” said Maggie, once more untying the handkerchief, “I won’t be
selfish.”
“Nor I,” said Belle, who had been the most unwilling to give up her own
way.
The “cunning house” was certainly far less roomy when Mammy was seated
therein; but having made up their minds to do a kind act, our little
girls did it pleasantly and made no fussing about it; the only thing
that was said being when Bessie remarked,--
“Nursey, it would be rather convenienter if you were not _quite_ so
fat,” which nurse thought a great joke, and laughed heartily, saying,--
“And there’s nobody knows that better than your old Mammy, my pet; but
just put by your play till baby’s had her fill of looking out, and I’ll
tell ye a story.”
Nurse’s stories always found a market; and the three little girls
ranged themselves in the seat facing her, and listened eagerly while
she told them the most marvellous of fairy tales.
Meanwhile, Baby Annie, happy and contented, amused herself with
watching the swiftly passing objects; and Peter Bartholomew, held by
one foot, hung dangling head downwards from the car window. How much he
enjoyed this novel mode of riding, neither he nor his little mistress
ever told, though baby had enough to say both to herself and him while
nurse talked to the other children.